


Filling The Empty Places

by valtyr



Category: Marvel 616
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-28
Updated: 2011-01-28
Packaged: 2017-10-15 04:09:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/156915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valtyr/pseuds/valtyr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a kink meme prompt: "Ever since he stuck the reactor in his chest, Tony Stark has had a secret massive body modification kink. When Arnim Zola leaves him a quadruple amputee, Tony just sees it as an opportunity for robotic limbs, and demands Steve drill holes in his stumps for the prosthetic jacks, which turns Tony on so much he demands Steve fuck the holes too."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Filling The Empty Places

**Author's Note:**

> Please note this fic has potentially disturbing content, please check the summary for details.

"I just don't see why you want me to do it." Steve looked from Tony to the metal nest to the array of machines, and this close, Tony was driven to the truth.

"Because I don't want anyone else seeing me like this" Tony spoke as evenly as he could, but Steve's face still mushed up in that awkward, conflicted way. "It's not difficult, Steve. I just need you to line everything up and hit the alarm if anything goes wrong."

"Okay," Steve said finally, and leaned down to pick Tony up out of his wheelchair, arms warm against the bare skin of Tony's back.. Tony let the awkward, clumsy prosthetic arms fall over Steve's shoulders, and nuzzled his neck; Steve huffed a laugh.

"Not really the time," and Tony nibbled him.

"Always the time." Another nip, and Steve pulled back to give him a stern look.

"No, right now you should be telling me where to put you."

"In the chair, obviously."

"That's..." Steve eyed the elaborate metal cradle, the sleek curve that matched the shape of a human spine, the strange twists that spiked and arched from it. "Are you - "

"I'm sure."

Steve settled him carefully down; Tony took a breath, and glanced up at the screens above him, checking the readings, as Steve unstrapped the prosthetic arms, peeling off the stickers that held the sensors in place over his chest and allowed him a certain amount of control over the arms. Old tech, boring tech, just enough to keep him going while he made the next iteration of Tony Stark.

"I miss the Extremis." He smiled at Steve's grumble. "It would make this whole situation much easier."

"I don't like this. Can't you - Bucky's arm - "

"Bucky's missing one limb," Tony interrupted. "And he's got subdermal cables down to his pelvis, you know, how do you think it doesn't rip straight out? You can't just jam on forty pounds of metal and expect everything to work normally."

"I suppose."

"Take my clothes off."

"Always the romantic." Steve slipped his shorts off, and then trailed his fingers up Tony's belly and circled the arc reactor. Tony wriggled, tongue darting out, and Steve smiled down at him. "You wanted me to do something with this?"

"Yeah," Steve's fingers circled again, and Tony bit his lip, wishing for a hand to slap Steve's away with. It wasn't the time, not really, but Steve's big hands on the reactor... "I - stop that, you - need to fit a new - " Steve's hand stilled, and Tony wished it would move again. He was already hard. "The cover unscrews. There's a new one on the side, there, see the tray?"

Steve examined the new cover with great seriousness, looking carefully at each little connector. He looked up at the screen with the schematics of the arc reactor, and compared them carefully. Tony lay patiently. Reed, Hank, even Peter would have been quicker, but he still hated being naked like this with anyone but Steve.

"Okay," Steve turned back to him, and laid the new cover on Tony's belly. Then he turned the cover, click, and lifted it out of place. Tony shut his eyes and began counting. _One, two_ the sound of the connections being snapped out, _three, four_ the wavering feeling of lethargy as the energy faded, _five, six_ the clink of the cover being put down and weight of the new cover leaving his belly, _six - no, seven_ \- snap, snap, _click_ and Tony let out his breath in a long gasp as the fire rekindled in his heart.

Steve kissed him, and Tony whimpered and arched up against him.

"Touch me," he mumbled against Steve's lips, and Steve pulled away with a chuckle. Tony opened his eyes to glare, and Steve shook his head.

"Later, Tony. Let's get this done, okay?"

"Oh, fine." Tony settled back. "IV?"

The drug would eliminate pain, but not reduce sensation too seriously, and it would leave Tony conscious. He needed to monitor every step of this procedure.

"I'm going to activate the cradle," he said slowly, forming the words with care. "Stand back, and don't do anything - it might look bad, but it's got to be done. Cradle, begin."

The cradle tightened around him like a clawed hand, shining metal strips laid down across his ribs, broad over his shoulders, narrow around the joints of his hips. Tony looked down at himself, slices of metal and flesh radiating out from the cold fire at his sternum, and remembered the chestplate he'd once worn.

Sometimes, it seemed he always ended up back here.

"Cradle, connect," he ordered, and the four closest slivers of metal penetrated the spaces set around the new cover of the arc reactor, slotted into place with a _clunk_ he felt rather than heard. Power spiralled away down the metal, and Tony felt it warming around him.

"All right?" Steve murmured, and Tony nodded.

"The hard part now. Cradle, lock."

Like suckers on metal tentacles, tiny ports opened against his skin, and there was a wet sound as drills pierced his flesh. Each vertebrae shivered as tiny vibranium drills scored into them, then spread open like blossoms inside his bones.

It didn't hurt, not a bit, though he could feel the stickiness of blood running over his skin. Feeling his body open to the metal like that... he whimpered, and tried to arch against the metal's grip, but it clutched at him like a fist and he cried out.

"Tony?" Steve was at his head, fingertips light at his hairline. "It's all right, Tony, it'll be over soon."

 _No_ he wanted to say, and tried to struggle, to feel his bones rattle against their new possessors, but he was trapped, held. Finally he stilled, feeling the sweat running down his body, his breath short as the metal held his ribs compressed.

"All right," Tony opened his eyes, and Steve kissed his brow. "Stand away, cradle - " Steve took a hasty step back " - secondary connect."

Delicate wires squirmed out of the metal-bone-flowers inside him, twining like vines around his singing nerves, binding along his spinal cord, each touch a flare of intense awareness, the metal waking to him, energy flowing through nerves and wires alike, and when Tony rasped in a breath, the metal moved with him, and when he squirmed, it flowed with him as smooth as his own skin, just the faint slick of friction between skin and metal, and it was a tease, like fingertips skating just above the surface of his skin, he needed to be touched -

" _Steve_ ," he gasped, and Steve's big warm hands cupped his face. He turned his head and sucked Steve's thumb into his mouth, tasted sweat and leather. He laved his tongue over the fine ridges of the fingerprint, writhed his hips and made an imploring sound, and Steve patted his cheek and pulled his thumb free with a pop.

"Come on, Tony," he urged as Tony whined. "You need to finish this, all right?"

"Right," Tony shuddered, and focused his gaze on the screens above him, tried to think. "Right, I - Stage One complete."

The screens flickered, and Tony stared up at them for a moment.

"Surgical next." He turned to look at Steve, who was looking distinctly unhappy. "You ready?"

"I guess." At some point while Tony had been lost in sensation, Steve had put on a surgical gown and cap; he added a mask, now, and then pulled on fine latex gloves.

"Legs first," Tony ordered. They were less delicate; if anything went wrong, he'd rather have limited capability in his legs than his hands.

"Are you sure?" Steve said again, bringing the machine up, and Tony nodded.

"If it goes wrong, hit the alarm; there's a team on stand-by upstairs. But I'd rather you do it."

Steve made a face, and Tony felt a slight pang of guilt; Steve hadn't asked for this either.

"Love you," he said softly, and Steve gave him a smile, and pressed a kiss to his hip, lips warm through the mask.

"Okay," and he positioned Tony's right leg - all nine inches of it - in the channel, and strapped it in place. Tony glanced down, and then looked to his right, at the screen that showed a similar view. Easier on his neck to watch there. "Ready?"

"Ready."

He watched his skin peeled away, his muscles and tendons and veins unwound, listened to the sound of the vacuum sucking away the falling blood that escaped before the arteries were pinched shut. It felt like - like having his hair combed, sliding and tugging at his body.

Soon his thigh was spread out like the underside of a grotesque mushroom, the stalk of the bone jutting bare.

"Bonesaw now," Steve warned, and Tony jerked his head in a nod, eyes not shifting from the screen. The saw rattled him to his teeth, and he wished he could brace himself against the shudders that ran through his body. He shut his eyes as the saw cut deeper.

In the darkness, he could feel the deep throb travelling through his spine, from the tight ache at the base of his skull to the glowing warmth that pooled at his tailbone, where the spine of the cradle ended. The tug of the machine on his unspun flesh made his breath catch.

He felt the bone fall away, and opened his eyes to see empty space where his femur had been.

"Jesus," he breathed, and watched the machine reweave him, building him back up, a shell of flesh around the space where bone had been. "That's fantastic."

"It's impressive," Steve admitted, and Tony glanced over at him. He was watching Tony's leg with a dubious expression.

The machine stopped, and Steve carefully unstrapped and unhooked, and Tony swallowed, and looked down at his leg. The skin was still pinned and stretched back, revealing the raw meat of him, glistening with blood and mucus.

"All right?" Steve started to reach for him, and then pulled back, glancing down at the red smears on his glove. Tony's blood, all over him. Tony made a small noise, and Steve looked up at him. "Are you in pain? Do you need more - "

"I'm not in pain, Steve," Tony arched his eyebrows, and then glanced pointedly down at his groin. Steve's lips quirked.

"I assumed that was a side-effect of the drug?"

"You know I like it when you touch me inside." It was a joke, and Steve made an appropriate _yuck_ face, but Tony's dick twitched against his belly. "Do it."

"What?"

"Touch me inside."

"What?" Steve said, eyes darting from raw thigh to Tony's face, as if he didn't want to believe what he was hearing.

"C'mon," Tony batted his eyelashes. "We're ahead of schedule. I just want to know what it feels like, okay?"

Steve made a faintly appalled face, but he slid his gloved fingers inside the hollow of Tony's thigh, very slow and gentle. Tony's breath stopped in his throat as Steve explored him, grazing lightly over the tender flesh, the raw nerves.

"Steve," his voice broke, and Steve froze. "Oh, God, don't stop - " The touching starting again, probing more confidently now, sliding along through the film of blood.

"Look at you," Steve said in a hushed voice, and Tony blinked sweat away from his eyes to focus on Steve's fascinated face. "I don't know how you do it." He touched a the index finger of his free hand to the spot just below the head of Tony's dick, and Tony writhed and pushed his thigh harder against Steve's hand. "You're so turned on, aren't you? Could you come from this?"

"I could from your dick," Tony blurted, and the fascination dropped from Steve's face like a mask to reveal sensible, definitely-not-fucking-anyone's-wound Steve.

"We should get the limb in place," he said, and Tony made a noise of furious exasperation.

"Please!" he almost shouted. "I can't - God, Steve, don't tease me, I feel, I need it - " he drew in a breath and tried to pitch his voice to coaxing instead of demanding. "Come on, Steve, it won't do any harm, and I want it, and I, I can't concentrate in this state - " he dropped his eyes down Steve's body, where the surgical gown covered everything interesting, and took a guess. "And you want it too, don't you?"

The surge of pink on Steve's skin gave it away, and Tony grinned.

"Come on," he jerked his head towards his wheelchair. "There's rubbers in my jacket. Come on."

"This is a terrible idea," Steve said, but he was peeling off the gloves and gown.

"It's insane," he said, even as he unzipped and slid a rubber over his cock, hard and wanting.

"I just, what if I hurt you?" He gripped Tony's hip, just above the pins holding Tony's skin back, and gave him a helpless look.

"You won't," Tony wriggled invitingly. "Come on, now."

The nudge of Steve's cock against the tunnel of his flesh made Tony shiver, and he wished he could catch hold of something, cling tight, but there was nothing to shift his focus from the feeling of being spread, stretched, open. Slick but sticky with blood, nothing but soft meat wrapped around Steve's cock, and Tony watched as Steve's mouth went slack with pleasure.

"That feels - " he looked down at Tony's leg, then up to meet his eyes, looked faintly appalled. "Tony?"

"It's good," Tony nodded down at the arch of his cock, straining against nothing. "I like it, see? It's all right. It's good. We both like it."

"Yeah," Steve nodded. "We both like it, it's fine." He withdrew slowly, the wet cling of Tony's flesh making them both gasp. "It's fine," he said with more conviction, and pushed in again.

He wouldn't go fast, however Tony coaxed and wriggled, just kept up the slow rhythm of his hips, stroked Tony inside, his hand flexing over Tony's hip, thumb stroking along the edge of the metal strap there. The aching stretch of him _inside_ , where no one had ever been, where there had never even been a space before, made Tony quiver and whine, beg for more, but Steve was merciless, each slow push a flash of lightning along the tangle of wires and nerves that was Tony's nervous system now.

"Steve," he mouthed, and he wasn't sure if it was the failure of voice or hearing that made him sound so far away. "Steve. Touch me. Touch me, please, touch me - "

The strong grip around his cock drew all his focus there, away from the shudders of metal and lightning, only skin on skin, one, two, three strokes -

"God, fuck, _yes_ ," he couldn't stop the words spilling out, couldn't stop struggling against Steve's firm hands holding him steady, and then he threw his head back on a soundless scream as he felt Steve move in him, throb, grow, and the surge of heat against flesh -

By the time he'd gotten his eyes open, Steve had wiped them both clean and was back in gown and gloves, only his high colour betraying him.

"Limb?" he said, and Tony nodded. He drifted as Steve collected the cyborg leg from the table where it lay, and lined it up with the hollow of his stump. "In position."

"Mm," Tony shook his head, trying to get some focus back. "Put it in me, baby."

Steve rolled his eyes, but pushed it gently in, and really it had been a good idea, what they'd done, because this felt positively comfortable. It slotted into place, the metal pressing flush agains the cut bone, and Tony yawned.

"Okay, then. Right leg, lock."

The narrow slivers drove up between flesh and bone, up into the ball of the joint, digging in and spreading barbs. Half an inch out from the core, flexible cables burrowed through flesh, finding the socket of the pelvis and implanting, spreading out like grappling hooks, meeting and connecting to the curves of the cradle there.

Steve was already unpinning his skin, stretching it down over the edge of the metal, clipping it in place. That was going to need work; it would be a messy edge for a while, but no point neatening it now, there could be any amount of tinkering needed before he could close it off.

"Right leg, connect," and that was as simple as hands clasping, wherever the leg and cradle met, and Tony could feel it, he could feel his leg, and he snapped it up and flung it round Steve's waist, kicked him in the back and sent him flying down over Tony, barely catching himself before going sprawling. "Hello you."

"Idiot," but Steve kissed him, sweet, and Tony purred and wriggled and clung to him with his one leg. "Let me up, we have to do the - "

"No," Tony broke in. "We're not doing the others yet. I need to do tests."

"Tests? what happened to 'I don't need tests, I'm doing it all at once'?"

"I need to do tests," Tony said stubbornly, and Steve sighed, and began to disconnect him. Tony looked longingly after the IV; everything was going to hurt soon, especially the new leg.

Still, three more days, and he'd have all his limbs again. Three more days, three more times with Steve fucking the spaces of his bones, and that was something worth having even if he hurt for a month afterwards.


End file.
